


Dance Lessons

by Fantrorillaz



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: M/M, Romance, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-24 02:21:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10732164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fantrorillaz/pseuds/Fantrorillaz
Summary: I think the male dance animation in the main mass effect trilogy look really freakin stupid. This has inspired me to write the complex life story of one of the many male human npc's that insist on using this animation and how much their quality of life improves when they stop doing it.





	1. An Awkward Night at the Club

Step. Step. Step. Step. That's all Gerald knew when it came to dancing, most men in a citadel club where too intoxicated to know the difference between busting a move and looking like a half dead collector husk on a treadmill, but Gerald, he had no excuses. The man had so little alcohol in his life that it probably couldn't even give a quarian a buzz. 

Gerald admitted to himself that he had some self confidence issues and that reflected through all of his mannerisms. He was the kind of guy to stutter and crack every sentence directed at a person of interest, never wore anything too flashy or revealing and was intimidated by anybody with an ounce of security in their social life. He started going to clubs to work on this, meet people, let loose, maybe acquire the taste of alcohol some day, but that never seemed to happen. Gerald tried getting people from work to come with him but everyone he asked turned him down with varying levels of concealing the fact that his awkward aura simply made them uncomfortable at times. He was both the wingman with nobody to root for and simultaneously without his own wingman to root for himself.

He went to the nearby bar to member lighten up a bit with something to drink, he promptly changed his mind seeing an asari currently standing close to it, possibly having the same idea. This cycle went on for many things the club had to offer, conversation starters rehearsed mentally, too flustered to keep the pole dancers anywhere but his peripheral vision, it really wasn't worth trying to him.

In the end, Gerald simply went home, hanging up his best jacket and refuging himself to his couch. He put on a vid chosen at random and sat back, his mind quickly slipping into wandering territories due to the hard five-out-of-ten quality the film presented itself with. Is this it? Was he going to love and die alone with no friends or the capabilities of making them? He didn't want to end himself but he didn't have a clue on how to start with a way solve his problem.


	2. Recreational Activity

Gerald had to admit, he was in a slump. He couldn't place a starting point but it had gotten to the point where he was spending most of his day lying on the couch wasting away and wasn't eating anything that would contribute any more nutrients to his system than a cheap TV dinner. After a while he stopped going to the club in his pursuit of finding some sort of self confidence. Even people at work were starting to get concerned. 

It took a while but one day, Gerald simply put his foot down. His boss was concerned with his health as it started affecting his work more and highly suggested signing up for some sort of recreational activity to add some substance to his schedule, at mentioning that he used to go local clubs around where he lived on the citadel his higher up chortled at the vision of him sweatily shuffling in a dim lit room with blaring techno music and suggested to try something more of the man’s speed. Directly after work he began browsing all the citadel had available to his area. 

The following week on a Sunday, he had gotten dressed into something that could be vaguely fitting for most physical activity, Gerald wasn't a fan of most of the skin tight stuff that everyone in their grandma liked to push themselves into for things like “unrestricted movement” and “appealing to a certain demographic” or whatever excuse those people had but he figured the class he signed up for would require something to that effect. He decided that since his moves were nothing special it would set him apart from the crowd to improve them, lucky for him a dance class had just been set up. From what he read, it was taught by a turian which surprised him somewhat but anything that required more experience than stumbling back and forth in a two step pattern was bound to be an upgrade for him.

Gerald was nearly late to his first class, making it just in time for them to get started it seemed, it looked like the class was going for something of a classic earth vibe, the walls in the front and back were reflective and there was a water dispenser on the far left, the floor was clean even in comparison to the micro managed floors of the higher class districts of the citadel to the point where he could probably eat on it. The facility wasn't the only scenery. Like any section of civilized space it was rather diverse, though the class was mostly a mix of asari and humans, there was a good handful of salarians and turians and even a krogan. Aside from this, perhaps the most breathtaking figure in the room, was the turian front and center.

He looked about middle aged from what Gerald had scene from turian age groups, an appropriate term for the man would be “silver fox” though silver would more refer to his sleek carapace rather than the hair he as a turian would not have. His physique was worn yet still very fit. His body type was streamlined and lithe even under the effects of when age should start taking its toll. The turian’s face was rugged, his mandible nicked with the minor hazards of warfare. The markings representing his colony were a modest violet hue, giving a faded contrast to his gold tinted eyes.

He cleared his throats and addressed the attendees around the room, already assembled in a vaguely organized grid. 

“Good afternoon, my name is Addemeus Magis, but if you plan to continue attending my class you will refer to me as sir.” His voice was one that commanded respect and intimidation alike, Gerald was sure at this point that he must've been an esteemed member of the turian military at one point or another, leaving only mystery behind why he was teaching a vintage themed dance class and not bending entire armies to the will of justice itself. 

He continued on. “I should forewarn you: here we will not be learning any pole dancing or that daft gimmick where you jog in place pretending you're in the middle of a rachni invasion those drunks pull off at clubs, if this disappoints you I suggest you leave immediately.”

Gerald had to admit he was slightly embarrassed to be called out like that. At least his dignity might've not been hurt as much as the few who had actually taken the offer. The krogan to gerald’s left guffawed at the display of those who had frankly chosen the wrong class.

After the dry pause the instructor gave he began to speak again. “Good. Now when we begin my class, you will all stand at an arm’s length of each other, no closer unless you’d like to be struck by the wild flailing of an incompetent dancer, is that clear?”

“Yes sir.” Gerald murmured along with the rest of the now slightly more organized group of students.

Magis repeated himself but with a forceful boom in his voice. “I said is that clear?!” 

“Sir, yes sir!” Gerald said in a more enunciated but still timid tone, along with everyone else. A few turians and even a couple humans even stood up straight in a rigid salute.

Out of his so far strict persona, Magis chuckled to himself. “At ease, solders.”

To begin the lesson, he had gone over the basics of carrying out the many exercises to be done to warm up for the lesson, the turian master had made a point that the salarians would still participate in stretching and that the krogan student would still have to do the more cardio related exercises, the rest was simply a orientation on what would be learned and a quick overview of human history centered on dance. A comment that stuck with Gerald even as he left as he did this overview went along the lines of something about humans “forgetting their cultures”, seemed like something he’d hear from one of those preachers that would always yell to the crowds bustling through the citadel accept this was a much more coherent string of wisdom.


End file.
